"Arrrg! The dreaded pirate Blue Bread leaves no survivors! Because you have dared tried to steal my treasure, you must walk the plank!"
"Lock, where did you even get the plank?"
"Jooooohn! You have to stay in character! I got it from Mr. Andersen's garden shed."
"And you're sure he wasn't going to use it later?"
A long piece of wood was hanging off the end of Sherlock's bed. Under it was a sea of pillows waiting for John to fall on them. Sherlock wore a red bandana, a white, baggy and old pair of faded jeans. John wore a blue striped jumper and a pair of jeans that were too big for him with a hole in one of the knees and a fake eye patch.
"I won the sword fight, John! Since I won you have to jump!"
"That's not fair! You're taking fencing lessons and I'm not!"
"It's not my fault my mum signed me up for those stupid lessons!"
John slowly walked over to the end of the bed where the board was being held down by a large rock. The bed the board was hanging off of was one of the beds in the guest room they slept in. Ever since the first day they decided that the one of the left was Sherlock's, and the the one on the right was John's. They were now pretending they were pirate ships, and after fighting with wooden swords that they got Mycroft to build ("Pleeeeease My!" "No Sher!" "...I'll give my dessert for two weeks!" "...Deal...") they had a battle (Which Sherlock had won) in which the loser had to 'walk the plank.'
John looked over the edge of the board and then down at the pillows on the floor. Making a very audible swallow, he put one foot on the wood near the rock and the other at the other end to feel how steady the board was.
"Fine! If I jump will you?"
"...Maybe..."
John quickly got off the board and made room for Sherlock.
The moment Sherlock set his foot on the board he realized why John was so nervous. As he looked down he didn't realized just how flimsy the board was. The plank sunk down onto the bed as Sherlock stepped onto it.
Sherlock slowly walked to the end of the bed and looked over the edge of the plank. He turned around and looked back at John. The light haired boy stared worriedly at the raven haired boy, both unsure.
Sherlock turned around and started counting.
"...1...2...3-"
Sherlock pushed himself off from the plank and into the air. John watched his friend with amazement. As Sherlock jumped the rock which had been holding the plank down rolled off making the plank go flying into the air along with Sherlock. The boy and the plank flew through the air.
As the two sailed through the air the door opened and Mrs. Holmes walked in. "Boys, Mr.- Oh my word!"
Sherlock landed on the pillows with a *Thud* and the plank continue flying until it hit the wall behind the door. Mrs. Holmes, seeing the plank flying towards her, quickly closed the door and only reopened when she heard the plank hit the wall. When she did reopen the door it was to two boys laughing merrily.
"Hope it was worth the laugh! Because Sherlock you will be apologizing to Mr. Anderson for taking his wood and that rock from the garden. But first, say good-bye to John, his father just called and wants him home. I'll be downstairs getting Mr. Wilson, you have 5 minutes." And with that left.
Sherlock turned to his friend, "Will you be already?"
"Sure, why shouldn't I be?" John asked as he slid off the bed and began gather his clothes.
"I-...It's just-...Your dad-"
"Sherlock you promised not to talk about it!"
"I know! It's just...I'm worried. You will tell me if anything happens, right?"
"...Yeah...I'll see you at school, alright?"
"Yeah... Good bye, John."
"Bye, Sherlock."
When John got home he was still dressed as a pirate with his normal clothes folded and inside his shirt which he wrapped the sleeves around and tied them together to make sure the clothes wouldn't fall out. Harry had taught him that after she got back from a camping trip with their aunt.
As soon as he got home he looked around to see who was home. It was only 4 in the afternoon so Penelope wouldn't be home yet. "Harry!" John called out, but instead he was answered with a groan coming from their kitchen.
Nervously he walked in the kitchen to find his father slumped over the sink. The whole room stunk of alcohol and vomit.
"J'hn?"
"Y-yes father, you wanted me home?"
"G't me somthng t' th'ink."
"Y-yes sir."
John walked over to their fridge and searched for some kind of beverage.
"We got some milk, different juices, and some soda pop."
"Beer y'u idi't!"
"Yes sir..."
Everyone in the Watson family knew that the bottom drawer was off limits. It was their father's drawer for him to do with what he chooses. There was a small label on the handle of the drawer that read 'Fruit/Vegetables' but any who lived in the house knew inside were beer and usually leftovers from whatever restaurant Mr. Watson went to for his break.
John wrapped his small hand around the beer can and shut the fridge. The small boy walked over to his father who had moved himself from the kitchen to the living room couch.
John approached slowly and offered up the beer can like it was a peace offering. Client Watson ripped the can out of his son's hand and cracked it open. As he drink from the can, he began to eye John and look him over."
"W'at the h'll are y'u wear'in?!"
"A p-pirate outfit... Me and Sherlock were playing pirates..."
"Did y'u fin'sh y'ur humewure?" Clint slurred.
"Yes, I finished at Sherlock's house."
"Are y'u clen?"
"Yes, I took a bath before I went to Sherlock's."
"Did y'u do y'ur chur's?"
"...I- I was gonna do them when I got home...Penelope said I could, I just have to put the dishes away, take the trash out-"
*SMACK*
With his anger anew, his slur gone, Clint stood up and grabbed John by his collar. "I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT THAT BITCH SAID! I want all the chores done before dinner! I don't care if Harry was supposed to do them or not! I want them all taken care of!"
With that, Clint back-handed John and then stormed off to his bedroom.